


abetment

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Fluff, Getting Together, Matchmaking, Misunderstandings, Poe and Finn are Terrible Wingmen, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The day anyone around here can speak with any degree of authority about what constitutes a <i>normal</i> person’s behavior is the day I defect to the First Order.” He peers at her, switching gears on a hairpin, suddenly sympathetic. “Our job’s not easy, Pava. You know as well as I do there’s not always gonna be a later to look forward to.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	abetment

“Hey, Pava, you in there?” Poe asks, snapping his fingers in her face, leaning close with a degree of earnestness Jess should find annoying, but can’t. Because he’s Poe Dameron. And there’s not a single mean bone in his body. At least when it comes to his friends. “You looked a little lost.”

“What?” she asks, pushing his hand back to his side of the table, swirling her _retha_ stew with her spoon. Its aromatic steam tickles at her nose, robust with fresh herbs and greens. New shipment week is always worth it. Doesn’t matter that it’s a wild game of musical starships and ‘shit, we don’t have room for these crates’ out in the hangar for the rest of the month. “I wasn’t.”

“Uh huh.” Twisting in his seat, knee hitching up onto the bench, he peers over his shoulder. “And it’s got nothing to do with the fact that Rey’s just walked into the room?” He glances back at her, almost apologetic in his mischievousness, before he lifts his hand and waves.

“No, don’t!” she says, too late, but it doesn’t matter anyway because Finn’s with Rey, too. And though there’s no chance in the seven Sith-spawned hells that he’d _not_ invite Rey over regardless, the fact that Finn is with her just seals Jess’s doom.

Rey waves back, a brilliant, happy, beautiful grin on her face. And waves even more energetically when she notices Jess. Jess responds with a weak wave of her own—why is everyone is waving? It’s very awkward—and thunks her elbows on the table once Rey turns away, lining up to grab her meal. Groaning, Jess covers her eyes with her palm. “Why would you do this to me?”

Poe just goes back to eating like there’s nothing the matter.

Poe’s spoon stills a few inches from his mouth. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you actually.” He takes the bite, swallows, nods in appreciation before pinning her with staid disapproval. “I haven’t talked to either of them all day. I’d like to catch up.”

“Normal people don’t care that much about how their friends’ days are going, you know.”

“The day anyone around here can speak with any degree of authority about what constitutes a _normal_ person’s behavior is the day I defect to the First Order.” He peers at her, switching gears on a hairpin, suddenly sympathetic. “Our job’s not easy, Pava. You know as well as I do there’s not always gonna be a later to look forward to.”

She sighs, chastened. “I know, boss.”

“And you’re gonna have to do something about this eventually. She won’t stay oblivious forever.” He tilts his head in her direction. “And I think you won’t like it when that happens and she takes the ground out from under you.”

She shrugs, a little uncomfortable with the confrontation, mild though it may be. The truth always is. Uncomfortable that is, not mild. “Who needs the ground, Dameron? I’m a pilot.”

“Well, you’ve certainly said less true things in your time.” A knowing curve curls at the corner of his mouth and he turns his attention to his stew. “Suit yourself, Pava.”

*

The hangar looms a couple of hundred yards away from where Jess stands on the runway. Its shadow stretches across the ground toward her, too far to reach, but trying for it anyway. When she looks up, hand a curved shield across her forehead, she spies a pair of X-wings playing tag. Mock dogfighting. They streak across the sky, catching and reflecting the glare of the sun with their shiny hulls. Pale shots of harmless practice bolts flicker and volley between them, equally bright.

It’s obvious to her that Poe’s flying one of the ships. He’s the only one who likes to make those wide, looping arcs, like the sky’s not big enough for him even when he’s flying. The other is much more restrained, twirling in tight corkscrews or shifting into sudden turns that are scarily precise.

“Hey, Pava!” Snap calls from further down the way, a crowd gathered around him. They nudge each other and chat when they aren’t struck dumb by or whooping at the display overhead.

“Hey, Snap!” she replies in the same tone. “What’s going on?”

He grins and opens his arms into an expansive gesture of welcome, a datapad held, careless, in one hand. “A bit of friendly wagering. You want in?”

She jogs over, tries to peer at the pad, but he pulls it against his chest and clucks his tongue. “What’s the bet?” she asks, suspicious, her attention divided. How can they be _betting_ when they could be watching the show?

“Whether Rey can hold her own for ten minutes against Poe,” he answers. “She’s at six now.”

Something shifts inside of Jess, warms her, moves around and resettles into an uncomfortable tangle in the pit of her stomach. She realizes immediately that she’s in a lot of trouble and forces herself to shake it off. ”Six minutes? How many times has he tagged her?”

Snap lifts three fingers.

White streaks across the sky, misses Rey—that’s _Rey_ up there—and she’s never even piloted an X-wing before. Jess barely has time to admire the scene before Rey retaliates with three quick bursts, almost clipping Poe in the wing. ”What about her?”

Snap’s glee doubles, his grin widening. “Twice.”

Jess swallows. “Out of five?”

“Out of five.”

Jess nods. Five. Five’s a lot. And getting any over on Poe is an achievement in and of itself. _But four minutes is an eternity on top of that_. “I’m in. Credits on Rey.” She settles in to watch, each moment stretching, laser fire zipping through the air continuously. Miss and miss and miss again. Neither gains much of an advantage as the seconds tick by. Rey just has to keep holding out. Or somehow get him first.

The longer it goes on, the more likely it seems she’s going to pull it off.

Then Poe flips his X-wing, hits Rey’s twice in the nose, and ends the match at nine minutes, twenty-four seconds.

It doesn’t matter that Rey lost, though, because she’s beaten the record that Jess herself had set the first time she’d done this exercise. No one lasts longer than nine minutes. No one.

Maybe she ought to be annoyed that her reign has ended. That Snap and the others will now have something to lord over her. And they will lord it over her. That now she’s going to have to work that much harder to earn it back.

Instead all she can only find in herself is a sense of wonder at Rey’s prowess.

Damn. _Damn_.

*

“Dameron,” she says, huffing out a breath. She shakes her hands out and stares at Poe across the threshold of his room. He stands, easy, in the doorway, head cocked. Finn is seated inside, an upturned crate serving as a table. A projector stands in the middle of it. Holos of a card table and all the accessories shimmer in the air above it. “Hey, can I—”

Poe shifts a little, twisting to the side. Moves just enough so that Jess can see Rey sitting there, too. The light reflects blue against her face. “Jess!”

“Rey. I didn’t know you...” Jess’s mouth dries and her palms start to itch, sweat prickling in the center of her hands. “I didn’t realize you were busy. I’ll come back later.”

“I don’t think so.” Poe’s hand snaps out, grabs Jess by her sleeve so he can push her further back into the hallway. Which is fine. Kind of what she’d wanted to do anyway. To Finn and Rey, he says, “Guys, I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door slides shut, he lets go and crosses his arm, eyebrow hitched high on his forehead. He shakes his curls out of his eyes and stares at her, even, just waiting for her to crumble under the weight of his regard. Curling her fingers together over and over again, she stares at his left elbow. Safer to look there than look him in the face.

“I need help,” she admits maybe. She can’t quite hear her voice over the rush of terror at the prospect of needing romantic assistance from Poe Dameron.

“I’ll say,” Poe answers, amused. He turns and inspects the wall briefly before stepping back to lean against it. A frisson of jealousy wells inside Jess’s chest, threatens to burst and splatter him with undeserved vitriol. If only she could be that calm.

“I like her,” she adds, determined to end her own misery one way or another. “A lot.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“She’s… really good at flying.”

Poe laughs, delighted. “I’m not even a little bit fooled on that score, let me tell you.”

Jess glares, but Poe is impervious, lifting his shoulders in a shrug, a goofy little smile on his face. Maybe it’s all the time he spends in General Organa’s company that makes him able to withstand her withering hate.

Poe’s façade of effortless cool lifts and he pushes off the wall, claps Jess on the shoulder, that goofy little smile transformed into something terrifyingly exuberant. It does little to soothe her raging emotions. Swinging between worry and embarrassment, she jerks out from under his touch. _What the hell have you done, Pava? This is gonna end in tears. Your tears. And Poe’s after you punch him._

“Don’t worry, Pava. We’ll get you through this. It’ll be great. You’ll see.”

“Right.” Great isn’t the word she’d use for what it’ll be. Disastrous, that might apply. “ _Great_.”

“I should head back in before they cheat me out of my extra rations.” Thoughtful, Poe asks, “You wanna join in? We could use a fourth hand.”

“No, I uh—” She can’t imagine anything worse than being confined in Poe’s minuscule quarters. It’s too fast. Too much. “I’ll see you later, boss.”

Shoving her hands into her pockets she takes a handful of steps, feeling Poe’s eyes on the back of her neck tracking her every move. She spins on her heels to face him, but continues to back away. She still has a few manners at her disposal. “Thanks, though.”

“You’re welcome,” Poe says. “I’ll let Rey know you’re sorry you couldn’t stick around.”

Jess fights the urge to groan. _You asked for his help,_ she reasons, trudging away. _This is help._

“Oh, and Pava?” She can hear the grin in his voice, the unbearable pleasure tinging this last salvo. “Tomorrow. 21:45. The Meadow.”

*

The Meadow on the cusp of night, a thin ribbon of orange visible through the sparse, far-off trees, stars dotting the inky blue sky, isn’t the most romantic spot Jess has ever been. But it’s pretty damned close. Even with Finn and Poe sitting alongside Rey right in the middle of it.

“Oh, hey! Look at that,” Poe says, spotting her first, nudging Rey in the side. Planting his hands on either side of him, he shoves himself up, getting his feet underneath him with an ungraceful, upward push. “‘bout time you showed up.”

He dusts his hands on his ugly, off-duty cargos, and gestures expansively for Jess to take a seat. His seat. The seat right next to Rey. When Jess hesitates, it’s Rey herself who scoots a little to the side and pats the ground next to her. “I don’t bite,” she says, sweet, not even a hint of the innuendo that would be in just about anyone else’s tone at those particular words.

Poe and Finn exchange a look that, thankfully, Rey doesn’t seem to notice. When Poe sits this time, he sprawls at Finn’s side, crosses his ankles and stares up at the stars, propping him up on locked elbows. “Rey, did I ever tell you about the time Jess saved my ass above Ison?”

“No,” she replies, doing a double take in Jess’s direction, one that ends with a flitter of intrigue. “She never tells me anything exciting about herself. What happened?”

“It’s nothing is what it is,” Jess replies, cutting Poe off, her cheeks burning. “There were a few pirates. I distracted them.”

“You’re the worst pilot in the history of the Resistance, Pava, I swear. Somewhere along the line you were supposed to learn to be a braggart,” Poe insists with an earnest roll of his eyes. “What my associate here _isn’t_ telling you is that ‘a few’ was a flotilla and ‘distracted’ means she flew right into the middle of them.”

“You did _what_?” Rey covers her mouth with her hand, her eyes bright with interest. “A flotilla?”

“It was four, maybe five—” Jess says.

“Twelve, actually,” Poe answers.

“Only four of them had guns!”

“ _Big_ guns.” He whistles, laughing lightly as he exhales. “I mean, they were huge guns. X-wing shields can only withstand so much.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Scouting for base locations. We hadn’t settled on D’Qar yet,” Jess answers.

“And there’s a nebula out that way. We thought it might be useful as far as smokescreens go.” Poe bites back a smile, eyes glittering with mischief. “Did you know a _flotilla_ of pirates had the same idea?”

“No,” Rey answers, lips twitching. Her teeth flash once as she almost lets herself smile. Jess, by contrast, would rather slink back to her quarters where she won’t have to listen to her own exploits repackaged to make them more impressive than they were. Instead, she shoves her thumb into the dirt, plucks at the ground.

“Neither did we.” Poe bites his lip, turns toward Finn. “The nebula was real pretty though.”

Rolling bits of grass up, she chucks the useless little ball at Poe. “Ison is also an ice planet,” she says as the grass lands about halfway between them. “And Poe didn’t really think the pirates were a big deal.”

“Hey, I’ve seen a pirate or two in my time, Jessika,” he answers. “Most of the time they’re just out trying to make a couple of chits. Kick up enough noise and they’ll go their own way.”

“For the guy with all the experience, you came suspiciously close to flying into one of their ships.”

“They had cloaks,” Poe answers, shrugging. “And I was maybe distracted by the possibility of the base being on an _ice planet_.”

Rey’s brows furrow and her mouth purses in confusion, for which Jess could kiss her because who _wants_ to live on an ice planet? Everyone should be confused about Poe’s excitement over ice planets. “Why is that exciting?”

“Hoth,” Jess answers, far quicker than Poe, just to undercut him. “Hoth is why.”

“Oh!” Rey answers, her spine straightening as she perks up. “Oh, I knew that. The rebellion base, right? Of course. That would have been brilliant.”

“Ha!” Poe claps his hands together once, puffs up with pleasure, and points at Jess, who would definitely like to find that hole now. “See, Jess. What did I tell you?”

She narrows her eyes and shakes her head. A tiny part of her can’t decide whether she should thank Poe for trying or throttle him. “You’re ridiculous. Both of you.”

Rey sways toward her, her arm brushing against Jess’s. Even that little amount of contact sends a rush of adrenaline pulsing through Jess, like taking the stick in her X-wing during a dangerous mission. “That’s not nice,” Rey says, voice thick with put-upon sadness. “I happen to think we’re charming.”

Poe stretches toward Rey, pats her on the calf. “It’s okay. I’ve only been trying to convince her for, oh, six years now? Pava will see reason one day.”

Rey, sly, turns her attention to Jess, much to Jess’s embarrassment and horror. “I hope so,” Rey says, just to compound it. And Jess would like to think Rey knows exactly what she’s doing. But Jess knows how Rey is, how teasing and bubbly and _happy_ she is toward the people she cares about. She’s just—she gives everything to the people around her. At all times.

It’s hard, then, to suss out whether more is a possibility. _No,_ Jess thinks. _Not_ more. Jess can’t imagine Rey’s relationship with Finn and Poe mattering any less than the sort of relationship she might have with Jess. _Just different._

*

“So listen,” Finn says, staring up at Jess from the floor of the hangar. She’s busy crawling across the body of _Blue Three_ , a spanner between her teeth. It is, frankly, not the place or the time she wants to have a conversation that starts with ‘so listen.’ She plucks the spanner from her mouth and thinks about finding someone to give her lessons in etiquette. Just so that maybe one day her first instinct in this situation isn’t ‘let me get the hell out of the conversation.’

“When did you get here?” she asks, pushing her braid over her shoulder to keep it from swinging and possibly catching in the open panel she’s bent over. Turning to look at him, she tries for a friendly smile.

“Like, a minute ago. You were into it—with the wires and the…” Finn’s hand circles the front of his face. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Poe and Rey do the same thing. I’m used to it.”

“Pilots, right?” she offers, wry. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m thinking it’s more what I can do for you,” he answers, evasive as all get out.

“You’re full of it, Finn,” she answers, tapping the side of her nose. She winks for good measure. Just because she’s generous like that. And pretending she’s jovial is almost as good as actually being jovial. “What do you need?”

He sighs, palm scrubbing at the side of his head. “Keevah and Teyler are out with Phelarian Flu. Poe and I both pulled sentry duty.”

“At the same time?” She tsks. Sentry duty is the worst. Long hours of being anxious about First Order bogies showing up on long-range scanners. Dread when you do get a reading. Then annoyance when it turns out to be space debris or an asteroid or a ship gone off-course in a nearby shipping lane. “That’s impressively unlucky.”

“That’s us.” Finn shrugs, opens his arms up wide. “Impressively unlucky.”

“So where do I come in?” She narrows her eyes. “You’re not trying to switch shifts with me, are you? I’m already locked in next week.”

“No.” Finn shakes his head. “Of course not.”

Waving her spanner back and forth, she asks, “Not for Dameron either, right?”

“ _No_. If I’m stuck, he’s definitely gonna be stuck with me.”

Jess softens despite herself, growing more curious than suspicious. “All right, you got me. I’m intrigued.”

Finn’s answering grin might best be described as jubilant. “Some of the support staff had instruments shipped in. They’re—”

“Ah.” Jess nods, clambering down the wing of her ship. She hops to the ground. “The ‘concert.’ They’re performing tonight, yeah? I’d forgotten all about it. Sounded like a good time.”

“Yeah.” Scratching at the back of his neck, Finn rolls one shoulder, looks away. “We were gonna go with Rey. She’s never seen a performance like that and she was excited about it.”

“She’s not going now?”

“Oh, no. She is. But it’s not as much fun without friends, you know?” He puts a lot of unnecessary stress on the word ‘friends’ by Jess’s estimation.

“You’re sure you didn’t do this on purpose?” she asks, stepping toward him. ”Dameron didn’t put you up to it?”

“Absolutely not. We wanted to go with her,” he insists.

She stares at him the same way she stares at Poe in the ongoing hope that one day he’ll actually listen to her about anything. It’s an impressive stare. People-not-named-Poe have said so.

Finn, of course, holds her gaze, too, tips his chin up.

“We did,” he says. “And now I’m asking you if you might want to go with her. As a favor. To us.”

She does. Her heart thuds hard against her sternum with how much she does. And at the same time, she doesn’t, nerves fritzing up in a whole different way at the thought. “Alone?”

His gaze skates up and down her face in disbelief. It’s only after a long pause that he speaks again. “You can invite someone else if you want.”

“No, no, I—” She shrubs at her hair, mussing her braid. “Oh, hell. Sure, I’ll go with her.”

“Good,” Finn says, backing away. “In that case, I’m just gonna let you get back to… this. She’ll be ready at 20:00 hours. I’ll let her known you’ll be picking her up.”

“Wait,” Jess says, nervous energy skittering down to her fingers and toes and back up again. She can’t even say what she actually wants him to wait _for_.

“Nope, sorry. I’ve got things to do, people to see. I’m a busy man.”

“Finn!”

He taps his wrist where there is definitely not a chronometer attached and his steps take on a springing quality. “Busy! No time. Thanks again, Jess. Poe and I owe you one.”

“Oh, hell,” she says again, hands settling on her hips. _What have I just gotten myself into?_

*

It’s not that Jess is worried. It’s not. But she’s gotta admit, there are so _flettafirs_ knocking around her stomach she thinks she might be choking on them. And while she can’t lie to herself and say she’s never felt nervous about a girl before, this time it feels different.

Or maybe Jess just cares more than she has in a long time.

She lifts her hand to finally knock on Rey’s door only to watch it slide open in her face, Rey waiting just inside. She’s dressed in plain gray as always, has the same smile, looks exactly the same in every way down to her hair. But somehow the sum of it adds up to more than the usual.

“Hi,” Rey says, pushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ears.

Jess is pretty sure Rey can hear her heart beating. Or sense it through the Force. Or through some other equally terrifying giveaway. Doesn’t matter. All Jess knows is she’s making a fool of herself and she hasn’t even spoken yet. Which reminds her: _say something_. “Hey.” That’s nice and neutral. “You look nice.”

That is… not. Not at all neutral. And not very nice as far as compliments go either. Definitely not smooth. She refrains from wincing, but only because she’s been trained to face much, much worse.

Theoretically.

Her lip might curl into a self-disgusted grimace. A little one.

“I look just like I always do,” Rey replies, a note of pleasure audible even to Jess despite her wish that a hole would open up beneath her instead. “You’re the one who looks nice.”

“What?” Jess asks, staring down at her white shirt and fitted trousers.

“But there’s not a streak of grease on you,” Rey replies, her index finger tapping delicately at Jess’s cheek as she slips past Jess into the hallway. “I’m a bit disappointed to be honest.”

“You— _what_?” Disappointed? What does _that_ mean? Why would Rey be disappointed by a lack of grease?

“Come on,” Rey says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the support staff’s lounge. “We’ll be late.”

*

They aren’t late. In fact, they’re very much early. So early, in fact, that no one else has arrived yet. Dim lights and not a soul in sight are the only things that greet them when Rey pushes the door open. And Jess had specifically _avoided_ leaving her own quarters until 19:45. For just this reason.

Jess is going to _kill_ Poe. Even though Finn had been the one to say 20:00, she knows its Poe’s fault somehow.

“Rey, I’m so—”

“There’s something I have to—” Rey, good-natured, pauses and waves her hand. “You go first.”

Jess swallows and nods, steps into the room and pulls Rey alongside her. The halls are empty, but she’d rather not admit to this where others might see. Gossip travels faster than light around here. And though they’ve all been the butt of it more times than anyone cares to admit, she’d rather not make Rey any more of a focus than she already is just by being a _Jedi_ and _Luke Skywalker’s protégée_.

“Look,” Jess says, huffing shallowly. There’s one thing that can be said for her. When she’s pushed up against a wall, she does what she has to do. And this is turning into one of those situations at a rapid clip. Best to just—admit it. And get it over with. “I, um…”

Rey tilts her head to the side, leans close enough that Jess can smell the dry, almost floral spice of her perfume. Perfume. Not so easy to get in a hidden base on an uninhabited planet on the fringes of the Outer Rim.

“Damn it,” Jess mutters, rubbing her hands together. To Rey: “I like you, okay? And I’d like to take you on a date. And I might have told Poe about it because I have the intelligence of a _sand slug_ and…” She stalls out as soon as she sees Rey’s shoulders jump, her hand lift to her mouth to smother a familiar sort of noise, a sparkle form in her eyes. It shouldn’t hurt. It _doesn’t_ hurt, she’d insist, but her heart twinges regardless of her _insistence_. “… and you’re laughing at me.”

“I’m not.” Rey’s hand falls to her stomach and she inhales. “I’m really, really not.”

“Okay,” Jess says, hopeful, a little sick. Lightheaded like when the inertial compensator inside _Blue Three_ is just the slightest bit off. “But you see how I’d be confused, right?”

Smiling, determined, she says, “I might’ve told Poe and Finn the same thing.” She rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, hand chafing up and down her other arm. “And when Finn mentioned pulling a shift tonight, I might’ve told Finn to tell you to pick me up an hour early.”

That tiny flair of hope sitting in her chest magnifies, balloons out to fill her chest with warmth. Surprise and delight threaten to choke her, but maybe that’s a good thing. She doesn’t even have the words to describe how happy she is and she’d probably just say something ridiculous anyway even if they came to her.

Rey’s eyebrows knit together. “Is that okay?” She reaches for Jess’s wrist, but stops herself from touching her by scant inches. “If I’ve made you uncomfortable…”

“No,” Jess says finally, bridging the distance, capturing Rey’s calloused palm with her own. “No, it’s… great. You’re great.”

Rey lets out a sigh. “I’m not very good at this. Poe said I should have just told you, but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jess answers. “I totally get it.”

“If you told him, then he knew the whole time,” Rey says, “didn’t he? And probably Finn, too.”

“He’s not really in the business of airing everyone else’s,” Jess offers, captivated by the contrast of soft and hard caught between her fingers, the pillow of her palm, the unforgiving jut of bone across her knuckles and joints. Maybe it’s not fair when she should be trying to make Rey feel better, but she hadn’t thought this far ahead. Didn’t realize what it would be like to touch Rey.

Rey frowns. “It might’ve made things easier.”

“Maybe.” Squinting at the lounge, Jess bites her lip. Right now, Jess doesn’t care what Poe knows and doesn’t know. “So… what exactly were you planning on doing with this extra hour assuming I hadn’t…” She flicks her wrist, unable to admit that she’s made an admission at all as heat blooms across her cheeks.

Part of her can’t believe she’s done it.

Even in the darkened room, Jess can see the pink now staining Rey’s cheeks, too. Rey tries to tug away, but Jess grips her hand a little harder, not enough that Rey couldn’t easily pull herself out of it, but enough of a statement so Rey knows Jess doesn’t want her to go.

“I thought we could talk,” Rey admits, eyes on their twined hands. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but… I’d hoped maybe we could get to know one another better. Outside of both of us knowing Poe and Finn, I mean.”

“That’s a good idea.” Jess smiles, warm all over again. She’s not sure she’ll ever not be warm if Rey keeps being the way she is. Then, maybe a little sneaky as an idea slithers into her head, she says, “And guess what? I have the perfect icebreaker.”

“And what would that be?”

“How do you feel about petty revenge against your friends?”

The beaming smile Rey offers her in return is more than worth the hassle Poe has put them through.

*

“So,” Jess says, poking at her meal, sitting, once again, across from Poe. “How was sentry duty?”

“Good,” Poe answers, looking down at his plate of food. “We… got a lot of sentrying done.”

“You sat around the outpost playing cards, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” He tugs at the collar of his undershirt. His flight suit bunches up under his arms and it’s fitting a little tight around his chest despite being a little unzipped. He looks distinctly uncomfortable and it takes every ounce of self-control Jess has not to laugh in his face. “How was the concert?”

Jess bites back the grin that threatens to overtake her cool, indifferent demeanor. If she cracks, he’ll know. And the whole point is him not figuring it out. “Oh, it was good,” she says. “Support has a hell of a lot of talent between them.”

“And Rey?”

“We, uh,” Jess says, her mouth twitching. Some of it is at Poe’s expense, true, but some of it is for Rey herself. The pleasure of thinking about her at all is more than enough to explain her giddiness. “We had a good time together.”

Poe stops fidgeting just long enough to look at her askance. “A good time?”

“Yeah.” _Sneaking into your room and replacing your flight suit with one of mine was definitely a highlight,_ she doesn’t add. Grabbing her tray, she swings her leg over the bench and climbs to her feet. “We had a good time. Thanks for all your help.”

That, at least, perks Poe up. “So you’re…”

“Yeah, I think we are,” she says, the grin finally in full force. For all of Poe’s faults, he does care. And Jess appreciates that. Which is why she’s going to make sure his clothes get switched back at the end of the day. She reaches across the table, tray balanced in one hand, and slaps him on the shoulder. Adjusting his collar, she smooths the thick canvas fabric. “Thanks, boss.”

Rey walks in just as she’s leaving and Jess offers a quick, darting squeeze around her wrist in greeting and farewell.

“How’s Poe handling his wardrobe change?” she asks, lip caught between her teeth to hide the smile threatening to break out.

“He hasn’t figured it out yet.” For all that Poe had been disingenuous about it, she really does need to think of something nice she can do for him. And Finn. But in the meantime, Poe can suffer through a day wearing too-small clothes. “See you later?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good.” As Jess walks into the hallway, she feels Rey’s eyes on her back. Turning, she offers a wave and one last piece of advice. She gestures at her ankles. “Oh, and hey. Don’t laugh when he stands up, okay? You’ll, uh, see what I mean when he does.”

Rey’s laughter trails after her as she heads down the hall. Once it fades, she starts counting down the time until this evening and finds herself grateful to have anything to count down to at all.


End file.
